A Warm Shoulder
by natedog731
Summary: Disaster strikes as Buck and Dokkaebi return from a perilous operation. Their lives in danger and their wills tested, the two will have to brave nature as best they can if they wish to survive. Mad lemons.


Great Lyakhovsky Island  
Sakha Republic  
Russia  
0500 Hours

Sébastien "Buck" Côté let the vapour of his breath escape through his nostrils as he paced silently up the curved stairs of the ruined manor's left wing, his silenced C8 rifle held steady and his finger ready to snap the trigger at a moments notice. The rugged skin of his cheeks tickled where it met his short beard of auburn as a draft of freezing wind bellowed through the exposed roof above him.

He gave the recent hole a glance before focusing back on the hallway atop the stairs, straining to hear for any steps or breathing other than his own.

"Hold it," came a voice from his earpiece, sharp but determined. Buck paused and lowered his stance, taking cover before the last steps of the flight. "Three in the room to your left. Dug in well." informed Pulse's voice, calm but assured.

The man in question was huddled beneath a thermal blanket and several layers of snow outside of the building, watching every heartbeat in the manor with his scope. For once he had removed his iconic sunglasses and brandished a toque instead, damning the cold at every chance the American could.

"Fuze?" Buck whispered, hoping his voice would not carry through the thin walls. A second of silence—filled only with the howling wind, passed before a small grunt broke through his earpiece.

"Da. It eez time to floosh zeh rats." came the Spetsnaz operators accent, followed by a series of whirrs that reverberated through the walls. Slight whispers bounced through the hallway as Buck risked another step up the stairs, keeping his russet lenses on the doorway to his left.

A series of subsequent thuds and clinks followed soon after, before a host of panicked shouting and footsteps broke the still peace of the manor. Sébastien reflexively slid his left hand to the trigger of his under-barrel shotgun and leveled it at chest height towards the entrance.

Explosive thumps rocked through his frame as he waited, watching as the door before him slammed open. The white mask agent who tumbled through found no respite in his escape as he was torn in half by the operator's shotgun, spraying a host of crimson across the eggshell drywall of the manor. Offal splattered against the wooden flooring, gouts of blood beginning to pool around his bisected corpse

Buck waited another second before a second man stumbled out, loosely clutching the sides of his head in a dazed manner. Sébastien did not hesitate as he cut the wounded terrorist down with the remaining rounds of his skeleton key, and entered the room.

The barrel of his C8 reflexively snapped over the corners of the room as he checked, finding only a fresh layer of soot and debris coating the dented walls. The mangled remains of a terrorist sat slumped against the opposite windowsill, his charred fingers still clawing at the rim of broken glass around the frame.

A 5.56 round from the C8 SFW perforated the corpse's skull with a meaty crack before Buck moved back to the hallway, peeking down the lane. Another series of bangs and explosions caught his attention as it reverberated through the manor, followed by a heavy bout of indiscriminate gunfire from multiple weapons.

"Report." Buck asked, monitoring the hall. Behind him emerged a large figure, swinging through the window sill on his rappel. Fuze said nothing as he stepped over the dead body and armed his ballistic shield.

"Tangoes in the basement. Neutralised" Came Zofia's curt voice, breathing slightly but of no concern to the JTF2 operator. "Pulse, anything else on my level?" he asked, giving Fuze behind him a nod. The Russian clambered forward and raised his shield and pistol.

"Caught sight of the asset moving a second ago—gone now. They've insulated him." Pulse reported, his voice growing frustrated as he switched between a bevy of vision modes on his scanner.

"They had to learn our tactics sooner or later. Looks like we are doing this manually." Buck answered, tapping his Russian comrade on the shoulder. The two moved down the hall with coordinated action, passing rows of paintings and decorative art placed on the walls. They came upon another door, closed and unmoving.

"IQ, Dokkaebi, we're outside of room 2." Buck reported, glancing behind himself every so often as Fuze kept an eye down the hall. "Understood. The door has been armed. We will take care of it on our end." spoke a German accent.

"You get that?" He asked, tapping Fuze on the back. The Russian nodded, keeping his face pointed down the hall. The two of them edged away from the door slightly as the Canadian mentally visualised the blueprints of the manor over his sight.

He loaded a fresh magazine into the skeleton key and primed the bolt, before grabbing one of the flashbangs on his vest. "Waiting on your go." came IQ's voice again, calm and reserved.

Buck stepped a meter back as he inspected the wall next to him, recalling the intersection between the drywall and frames. The pin and lever of his flashbang bounced silently against the floor as he leveled his rifle upwards and took a step back. A thunderous boom through the manor as a basketball-sized hole appeared in the wall, prompting the operative to toss his cooked flashbang through with unparalleled accuracy.

Another _whump_ resounded through the building amidst frantic yelling before the sound of crash broke through the second level. Muffled bursts of smg and rifle fire hummed through the walls as the operator waited, listening to the commotion fall silent.

Fuze advanced past the door as it opened, revealing a pair of taught female operators with smoke trails rising from their weapons. Buck gave both of them a nod and followed his Russian bulwark down the hall, expecting them to do the same.

"Got a pair trying to make a run for it—north-side, back of the house." Pulse hastily reported, tracking the commotion. Buck was about to issue an order when a burst of shooting rebounded through the manor and caught his hearing.

"That's two more strikes on the gun. We're moving upstairs." Came Thatcher's grizzled voice, followed by a cock of his rifle. "Sure you can handle the stairs grandpa?" Asked Zofia through the comms as she mentally recounted her kills.

"Sure you can handle my boot up your arse?" He responded curtly, enticing a chuckle from the Canadian. "Glaz, any visuals?" Buck asked, his eyes peeled on the doors ahead of them.

Silence encompassed the network before an almost sleepy voice slipped through. "My scope counts six tangoes in the final room. Hostage is still MIA."

Buck felt a curse slip from his mouth as he paused behind the Russian at an intersection of hallways. Before them stood a pair of dark wooden doors; tall, heavy, and more than likely barricaded.

He let loose a series of hand gestures, letting his squad disperse before leaning himself against the walls adjacent to the doors. The SAS and GROM operators approached silently from behind, their weapons raised, and their stances hunched.

"Buck. What's the mess?" Thatcher asked, saddling up beside him while Zofia joined the other women. The Canadian turned to the senior operator, pulling up his phone. He displayed a blueprint of the floor.

"As you know well, our hostage was meant to be in the basement. They rushed him up here instead and put on thermal insulating blankets." He recounted. "Glaz has a direct LOS to our tangoes through the windows, but our asset could be anywhere in that room."

Thatcher paused, contemplating the situation. His lenses shifted as he gazed past the JTF2 operator towards the remaining members of the force. Buck followed his vision and quickly found similar ideas swirling through his head.

Seconds later a hasty plan had been hatched between the two of them.

"Monika, you're with me. We're going topside." Thatcher announced, pointing at the GIGN operator. She gave a slightly confused nod, but did not hesitate to follow the man. The two of them approached the window at the end of the hall and clambered out before rappelling upwards. Buck turned, meeting the remaining two women's gaze.

Fuze was busy listening with his helmet against the wall. The leader gave them a stroke of the finger to join before taking a knee so the Spetsnaz operator did not have to strain to listen.

The two joined him seconds later, checking their weapons as they attended to the proposed idea. "Any questions?" Buck asked, giving both a nod of confidence. They returned the gesture and made way to their respective positions.

Sébastien collected his thoughts and stored them in the back of his mind. The coming events would require his instinct, cunning and reflex above all. He turned his head towards Dokkaebi, who leant on the wall opposite of his. She pulled a tablet from her waist and tapped a sequence of commands, waiting as a series of windows and dialogues process through her computer.

As if on queue, a number of muffled hums began to sing throughout the house.

"IQ's got visual on her Spectre, marking them out now." Thatcher announced over the comms, before quickly giving the rough location of every phone in the adjacent room.

A rough _thunk_ popped down the hall as a breaching round hit the doors and blew them off their hinges. Fuze chucked the handful of flashbangs he carried through the fresh cavity while Zofia sent more of her concussion rounds through with the lifeline launcher.

Shattering glass announced Thatcher and IQ's entry of flashbangs. Buck could swear he felt the walls almost expand under the raw volume of stunning power simultaneously detonating within the room.

There was no time to waste as Fuze cross the threshold, his shield held taught and an expert grip on his pistol ensuring his shots would go where he wanted them. Buck followed him in, glaring through the haze of dust and powder kicked up by the detonations as his rifle snapped to the points prescribed by Thatcher and IQ.

Fuze offered no sounds of labour as his ballistic shield absorbed the blast of a shotgun, nudging his large frame only slightly before he rushed forward and slammed the piece into the offending white-mask. Buck felt a surge of adrenaline flow as his reticle hovered over hazy targets, but the gears in his mind spun much faster in heat as he squeezed the trigger of his C8 and sent rounds down-range.

A thunderous retort erupted behind him as Dokkaebi entered, shouldering her BOSG as it's slug sent a combatant flying across the room. Buck was about to lock onto another figure when a shrouded being emerged from the boxes to his left and grabbed a hold of his arm.

The Canadian felt his vision sharpen as he laid eyes on the rigged bomber and the crazed expression within the man's ballistic mask. His eyes dropped to the man's other hand, watching in slowed time as his gauntlet made to depress the simple detonator on his chest.

A surge of energy put the operator's hairs on end as he felt a wave pass through him, filling one of his ears with static. The bomber clapped his palm against the detonator, closing his eyes in expectation for the end.

Buck tore his arm from the man and planted a kick into his laced abdomen, skirting him back into the dining table as he lifted his rifle. He let the weapon melt through the bomber's head as he fired, watching as Thatcher entered through the leftmost window upside down.

"Drop it!" Yelled Fuze as he turned towards the right corner of the room, spotting an LMG wielding white-mask. Buck felt the Russian shift positions to cover him with his shield, awaiting the impact of the heavy-calibre weapon.

A silent crack permeated the air as the exposed window behind the man shattered, prompting his chest to explode with the abstract patterns of an exit wound.

"Сука Блять!" Yelled Fuze over the comms as he spotted the final terrorist, huddled against the wall.

All eyes in the room turned to focus on the man, and a bout of realization spread as they found him clutching a pistol to the head of the revealed hostage.

"Get Back! Get back or he eats a bullet!" The man yelled, his hands still and determined as he hugged the wall. Muffled cries emanated from the taped mouth of the hostage, his eyes wide and bloodshot in fear.

"Easy! It doesn't have to go this way!" Buck yelled, zeroing in his scope on the white mask's head. The terrorist ducked behind the hostage, anticipating their accuracy. Dokkaebi saddled behind Fuze as she held her BOSG taught, untrusting of it's effect on such a situation. Zofia hugged the jagged corners of the ruined door, her sights trained on the pair.

Thatcher stood still, adjacent to the Canadian.

"You let him go and we won't add you to the bodycount." He snarled, leveling his P226. The terrorist shuffled backwards, closer to the broken window. "Point that at me and I kill him!" He threatened back, jamming the barrel of his pistol into the hostage's ear. Another muffled cry emanated from the man.

Thatcher relaxed his stance, understanding the situation.

"Dear, if you could." He whispered, feeling the comms click within his facade.

The white-mask gave him a confused glare, threatening to chance his pistol at the operator rather than the hostage. A pair of sneakers emerged from the shattered window, followed by a length of denim and muscular thighs as they wrapped around the torso of the terrorist.

IQ tackled the man and concentrated her weight on the knife lodged into the back of his skull while her other hand controlled the aim of his pistol. Multiple shots pierced the ceiling as he fell to the floor, haphazardly squeezing the trigger of his weapon.

The GSG9 operative pulled herself off the corpse and holstered her bloodied knife, before brandishing the hostage. "That's my girl! Just like I taught'cha!" Thatcher boasted, proudly raising his hands into the air. Monika gave him an embarrassed wave as she passed the hostage to Fuze, who dumped him over a shoulder and exited the room.

Buck stood silently, glancing over the details of the room and the number of bodies spread about. In the back of his mind he acknowledged the fact he could have been vaporised if not for a saving grace by a well trusted teammate, but the instinct within dictated his actions.

"Six, this is Blue team. Operation Red Blizzard is a success, no casualties." He reported, turning from the scene and lumbering out of the room as Thatcher paraded more congratulations to the younger operatives like the father he was.

"This is six. Job well done team, the extraction of this asset is invaluable to our efforts. Evac is ten mikes out." Came the head of Rainbow Six's voice, happy, but focused regardless. A click in the operator's comms indicated a switch to a private frequency.

"Sébastien, Grace, a second bird is on it's way to pick the both of you up. Collect as much intel and tech as you can, we'll need to update our databases on their current tactics." Six ordered, leaving them in silence. Buck turned his head, catching the Korean woman's eye. They shared a nod and split to random directions while the rest of the operators made way to the evacuation point.

Buck shouldered his dufflebag of electronics and intel with ease as he stepped out the front door of the manor, satisfied eyes sweeping across the massacre of white masks littered about the grounds. Holes plagued every face of the building as he gave it one last look, recalling how clean its state had been at the start of the operation mere hours earlier.

He turned, slightly blinded by the shining rays of vibrant orange and yellow streaking across the calm sky as the boiling sun began to rise. The Canadian savoured the warm sunshine, knowing it would not last during this time of year.

The hefty whirring of helicopter blades filled the air as a Russian Kazan Ansat landed on the paved lot before the wooden docks of the grounds, followed by an armored Mil Mi-17. Buck waved the rest of the team off as they quickly ferried the hostage into the latter craft, gentle with the stricken man. Fuze gave him a thumbs up as he entered last, lazily tossing his dented shield against the wall of the bird and reclining on the rows of seats like a deflated beanbag.

B uck stepped onto the opposite helicopter, depositing his rifle into the mid-rack before sitting with his back to the pilots. Grace sat in the seat opposite of him, swiping through a number of files on her tablet as she idled. Besides her sat a pair of bags filled to the brim with intel and tech; a modest collection for the intelligence agent.

He let out a collective sigh and tossed his bag in line with hers before shutting the door. "Da-vai." came his order, prompting the pilots jump the engines and begin lifting.

Sébastien loosened the straps on his vest and removed his beanie as he relaxed into the chair, feeling the number of bruises he had gained from the engagement begin seeping through to his mind. He gazed out the window, eyeing the destroyed manor in slight awe of his actions while the bird began to head south towards the mainland.

He leant back into his seat and closed his eyes for a moment, resting them slightly before pricks and sources of pain he had ignored beforehand began to pop up. The hum of the Kazan Ansat's engines droned out almost everything else in the vehicle, including his hisses of annoyance as he began idly removing shards and splinters of wood from his face.

Grace spared a glance from her tablet, a smile forming on her lips as she watched him struggle. Buck rolled his eyes in response, before pulling the last of the major splinters from his skin. He pushed himself further into the chair and began to fall asleep, the hum of the engines his lullaby.

The Korean operator stretched her legs out as far as they would go as she switched off her tablet, bored with her antics. She eyed the older operator across from her, taking in his features and somewhat cute crop of auburn hair.

Had he not been her team leader, Grace would have considered him a spectacular partner for downtime. His age as a factor pooped up, but she quickly brushed it aside, knowing well she had had plenty of fun with men of all ages. However, the older ones were what she usually aimed for; finding people of her age too brash to consider as partners.

She washed the thoughts from her mind and instead found her curiosity looming towards the bags of equipment they had acquired. A gloved hand reached into the one closest to her and extracted a stack of papers laden with notes and images. She released and dug back in‒pulling out a hard drive instead.

"Now this , I can play with." She purred, pulling her tablet back out and linking it to the device. The encryptions provided no obstacle as the operative slipped through the defenses of the tech, easily barging into it's contents.

Grace proceeded to run through the number of drives she had collected, leading to her frustrated sighs as she rummaged around for another piece of equipment to crack. The rest of her bags contained only papers and gadgets, neither of which she was interested in at the moment.

The Korean woman reclined in her seat, shivering slightly as she realised how cold it had gotten. She glanced at the pilots, noting their thick jackets before looking at her own attire and rethinking tights as an appropriate option.

Her eyes wandered over to Sébastien, noting his partially opened mouth and limp frame. She giggled slightly before finding her hand had snuck into his duffel of intel, almost of its own will. There was slight hesitation in her actions as she removed a strange looking brick of circuitry from the duffel, her eyes keen on the object as she rotated it between her fingers.

A light gust of wind rocked the helicopter slightly, surprising the operative as the craft banked to accommodate the turbulence. Grace stowed the piece in her own bag and looked up, watching as one of the pilots folded out a weather-radar display and checked the forecast.

Finding the situation slightly diffused, she reached back into her duffel and connected the wire, interfacing with the new drive. Lines of code and multiple prompts began to fill her screen as she worked, finding interest in the challenge.

Another gust shunted the helicopter once more, putting the craft into a sharper bank than the last. This time Sébastien awoke, holding tight to his seat in reflex as the luggage on the floor of the bird slid to the opposite side of the cabin.

One of the pilots began swearing in Russian as he adjusted the controls, putting the craft into a gentle dive. "Turbulence. Vee vill go lower." The second pilot announced, pulling out his display once more to look at the radar.

The JTF2 operator looked up at Grace and shook his head in amusement. The woman only offered a smile as her fingers continued to work through the machine. Sébastien gazed at her action for but a moment before passing it off as her antics, and instead focusing his vision on the landscape.

Snow blanketed everything within the horizon as a smattering of dark clouds drifted among the blue expanse of the morning sky, leaving only the light of the sun to strike his features. The expanse of pine trees and frozen hills blurred below them as the helicopter continued its flight to Brussels.

The Canadian eyed a number of stony juts across the mountain range as they travelled, spotting a few indents and even a cave at some point. Memories of his childhood surged forward as he reminisced about his treks into the wilderness as a boy, long before he had ever dreamed about picking up a gun.

Sébastien felt the hairs on the back of his neck surge slightly, pulling his attention from the window to the interior of the cabin. Grace continued to toil away on her tablet, frantic with her work as she competed against the piece of hardware. The Canadian eyed the interior, wondering what had spooked him earlier.

He was moments away from brushing the incident off as a symptom of exhaustion, but the second he closed he eyes he felt them snap open again. His neck jerked his gaze towards the trio of bags piled against the opposite side of the cabin. A scan of the items with his intrepid eye found nothing out of the ordinary, before he noticed his hearing.

The engines of the helicopter were adept at drowning out most conversations, but with some determination the operator picked out the tune; a pattern of beeping among the whirring.

"Grace." He shouted over the noise, attracting the woman's attention. She looked up from her work, the slightly annoyed expression she wore dissolving as she met the seriousness in his eyes.

He lifted a hand to his ear while the other pointed at the bags adjacent to her. Grace paused and listened, straining her hearing before she too, discovered the source of confusion.

The operative unclipped her belt and squatted over to the bags, pulling them apart as she rummaged for the source of the noise. It took only mere moments before the woman discovered the spilt heap of intel on the floor, and a flashing canister.

She picked up the item and held it to her ear, verifying it as the source of the noise as it began to hasten its pace. She looked at Sébastien, watching as his eyes widened in realization.

"THROW IT!" He yelled, shouldering the door besides him open despite the speed at which they travelled. Grace flung the canister with an expert toss and watched as it sailed before the man's eyes, only to witness the device pulse a blue glow that washed over the craft and everything within.

The canister zipped out of sight as it was picked up by the airstream, but Grace felt her stomach rise into her throat as both the helicopters engines sputtered to silence. Sébastien slammed the door shut before he felt the craft begin to spiral, unlike the usual autorotation in most engine failures.

A wail escaped the Korean operator's mouth as she was flung by the change in momentum, bouncing off the ceiling of the cabin. The two pilots in front shouted in confusion as they tried to reactivate the engines, but the whole dashboard was dead.

Grace felt the wind knock out of her as she was thrown into another wall, before a muscled arm wrapped itself around her waist and hugged her into a larger body.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Sébastien roared as the ground began to get closer to the window, urging the woman to curl into a ball against him. He braced an arm against the door and his feet against the floor, expecting the worst.

Grace felt a cough wrack her body as the first tendrils of consciousness crept into her mind, pulling her from the coma she found herself in. The woman opened her eyes, finding her vision splotchy in some places and full of vivid colours. Seconds passed before she realised it was not her vision, but that she was gazing at the sky.

Soreness permeated her frame as she slowly turned, planting an elbow into the… snow. Grace grabbed a handful of the powder, realising what had happened. She shot her vision up, finding the smoking husk of the charred Kazan Ansat before her. Pieces of debris and shattered wood littered the clearing they had partially created, while a plume of black smoke rose through the air like a smokestack.

Questions began to race through her mind as she pulled herself up, listening to the crinkle beneath her boots. She glanced downwards, discovering that she had in fact been lying on a thermal blanket instead of snow.

Pain surged through her abdomen as she took a large breath, feeling something beyond soreness beneath her garments. She dropped to a knee, but continued to survey the scene. The three duffel bags of intel lay opposite of her blanket, while a fourth sat at where her feet had been. She spotted the barrel of her BOSG jutting from the pack and silently thanked whoever had grabbed it.

"Sébastien?" She shouted difficultly with her accent, wondering if he was still present. She prepared another breath before an "Oui!" pierced the treetops. Grace glanced upwards to the tallest pine in the clearing they had landed in, spotting the trail of disturbed snow up the trunk.

Atop the tree sat the JTF2 operator, a pair of binoculars frozen towards the north-east. He removed a compass from his vest and dialed in the bearing before sliding down the tree back to ground level.

"Finally awake?" He asked, panting slightly on the approach. A nasty bruise covered his right cheek, while a number of bloody cuts lined his lips. "What happened? I thought we threw that thing out of the window?" She asked, collecting herself and standing before him.

A wobble in her stance prompted the man to grab her shoulder, holding her straight. "Easy. You were out for a while." He explained, gently letting go. Grace steadied herself and allowed her vision to explore the clearing once more.

"Where did we land?" She asked, walking to one of the bags and rummaging through it. "You mean crashed? The middle of the Sakha Republic, one of the coldest places on earth." He responded, chuckling slightly.

Grace shot his humor a frown as she continued to rummage, finding some of her items. "My tablet?" She asked, looking up at the man while noticing his missing vest. Sébastien frowned, recounting his previous sweep through the craft before it had caught fire.

"One of the bags." He nodded, slowly unzipping his jacket. The Korean woman returned to her task at hand, feeling around for her beloved device before recognising its shape within her palm.

"Unfortunately, every piece of tech including the helicopter got fried by that pulse." The man added. Grace gazed at her reflection in the tablet's cracked screen, noting the lack of fake glasses she usually adorned.

She let out a sigh and deposited the slab back into the bag before turning back to her partner. She raised her brows at the sight before her, finding that Sébastien had removed his coat and sat on his knees behind her.

"You think you can… you know?" He asked, nodding towards his left arm. It hung limp at his side. "You did all that with a dislocated shoulder?" Grace slightly shouted, a raised brow overtaking her features. The man risked a shrug and payed for it as pain streaked across his features, prompting the woman to approach his side.

"Fool." She whispered, looking over the limb. "You know, some would call it courage," He snorted "Or even -SACRE BLEU!" Yelled the distracted Canadian as his shoulder was popped back into place with one swift move. He keeled over, clutching the joint in a fit of grunts and hisses.

"You are not wrong. Fools can be courageous." Grace replied, patting him on the back as he went through the motions. Sébastien braved a chuckle as he leant back up, winding the shoulder to get it back to working order.

It would hurt him for weeks to come, but he would survive.

"The pilots?" She asked, gazing at the two mounds of red snow next to burnt remains of the craft. "Messy." Came his curt reply.

Grace sat back on the thermal blanket, listening as it crinkled against the snow.

"No helicopter. No radio. No cell towers." She stated, a plethora of thoughts running through her mind as her face softened. "I wouldn't be so sure about the last one." Sébastien countered, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a purple rod. He handed it to the operative and watched as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Not so fast, mon-amis." He paused, pointing at the device. "It's EMP shielded, but the crash knocked some parts around. You'll have to tinker with it before we can make a call." He explained, rising back to full height.

Grace thumbed the flip of the phone and extended the antenna, wondering what the degree of damage was. Before she could crack the case open and peer inside, Sébastien interrupted. "Ah! Not right now. We need to make for shelter before the weather catches us with our pants down." He pointed out.

She was about to retort before a gust of wind sent a spray of snow across the clearing. "Blizzard to our west. Coming in fast." The Canadian reported, watching the horizon. He checked his watch, counting the number of hours they had left before sundown.

"Come, it's only noon. I spotted a cave not too far from here we can shelter in."

He pointed towards the mountains that encompassed the forest.

Grace formatted a number of responses in her mind, both casual and aggressive. She settled on nothing instead and followed the man, hoping he would be able to guide them out of this mess.

The two collected their belongings from the clearing and marched off to the mountains, in hopes of surviving the night.

Grace let out a lengthy groan as she closed the case of the sat phone and booted it up. The screen glowed with a number of options, but she would let Sébastien handle that aspect. For now she rested her tired fingers, happy to no longer have to toy with the item like she had been doing so for the past three hours. She laid the phone atop the duffel next to her and gazed out the mouth of the cave, watching as the sun edged closer towards the peaks opposite of her.

Sébastien let loose a hearty grunt as he dragged another dozen boughs of pine through the entrance of the cave, shaking the snow from them. He laid them out in a pile across the lumpy floor of the indent and dragged the thermal blankets overtop.

"Get the phone working?" he asked, removing his vest and depositing it next to his bedding. Grace held the device up, smiling at her accomplishment.

"Bien!" the man yipped, taking the device and punching in a sequence of numbers he had memorised by heart.

The phone rung for a few seconds, before a slightly curious voice answered.

"Identify."

"Six, It's Buck." He answered, stepping out towards the lip of the cave for better reception. "Sébastien! Jesus Christ what happened? Your chopper stopped responding when we tried calling in." Six asked, her voice professional but relieved.

"A piece of intel we collected detonated. It knocked out our electronics, including our transport." He reported. "Both pilots are KIA. We need an evac."

A pause played across the speaker of the phone before Six's voice rung through once more. "Not in the immediate timeframe. Satellites show a massive blizzard getting ready to sweep across the region. It's not going to let up till tomorrow." She explained.

Sébastien let his professionalism silence his curses as he looked towards the horizon, confirming his unwanted beliefs. "Do you have the means to make the night?" Six asked, genuinely concerned this time.

The man turned and glanced down at the Korean, who waited patiently for his conclusion.

"It won't be fun, but we can make it."

A scratch of static resounded through the speaker before Six's voice reappeared, this time with a grimmer tone. "Good. We'll have a bird enroute to your coordinates once the storm let's up. In the meantime, dig in. We'll be unable to contact you while you're under." she ended.

Sébastien silenced the phone and stored it back in his duffel with a small sigh. He made no other noise as he sat next to Grace and followed her gaze out the cave.

"So?" She asked, her tone providing no emotional indication.

"We are stuck here for the evening, along with the blizzard." He stated, formulating a number of considerations within his mind. Grace said nothing, and continued to admire the panoramic beauty of the nature that could very well take her life tonight.

"Sébastien?" The woman asked, watching his back as he tended to the small fire they kept. "Call me Seb, or Sebby. Only Six calls me by my full name." the man responded, tossing in another bough of dried pine. He stoked the glowing coals before giving the fire a final glance and collecting the pair of steaming MRE pouches, letting them vent slightly as he turned.

Grace adjusted her smile as she snaked beneath her multitude of thermal blankets, reaching a hand out to accept the fresh meal. Seb retreated beneath his own covers and began to dig in, scooping a spoonful of beef and potato stew into his mouth. He chewed, seething slightly as he found the meal too hot for his tongue.

"The Russians may not be good at their own counter-terror operations, but damn can they make and MRE." He stated, chuckling slightly. Grace let out a laugh as she recounted the number disgusting meals she had tried over her career.

"I would take anything over our own meals. Always rice and chili paste." She explained, savouring the next spoonful. Seb harboured another laugh as parts of his memory began to unwind as well, pushing him to keep the conversation running.

"Rice is reliable in the least, just wait until you try an MRE with eggs in it. You'll understand why we trade MRE's."

Grace found the image of dehydrated eggs horrifying in her head, but quickly erased them with another spoonful of the stew. The two ate in silence for the next minute, finding themselves out of topics to discuss.

Seb brainstormed a number of matters he could bring up to keep his partner active and awake, something that would take her mind off the cold.

"Did you find anything on those drives?" He asked, slightly catching the Korean off-guard. She rolled her eyes about, recalling the digits and encryptions she had to work through. "It might be handy to remember them, if they're all fried as of now." He added, sparking her memory further.

"Most of the drives were useless. Information we already have, investigations on intel breaches. Nothing to point us in the right direction." She explained, chewing on the final bites of her meal.

Seb chucked his empty bag into the flames and turned back towards the woman, intent on listening to the rest of her words. "What about the one from my bag?" He asked.

Grace felt a streak of crimson flash across her cheeks as she tried to avoid his gaze. "You saw that?" she asked, hoping he was joking.

"I always sleep with an eye open. Bad habit." He shrugged. "But yes, I did."

The Korean operator squirmed slightly under her covers, but decided to continue the conversation. "Hmm. I only managed to break the encryption on the drive, I did not have time to access the files like I wanted to." She started, rapping her fingers against the stone. "However, I did have time to backup the drive's contents to my tablet."

She lifted the dented frame of the computer up and shook it in mock awe.

"The processor and most hardware was cooked, but the storage systems are shielded, just like your phone." She praised.

"Great. Maybe intel can pull something useful from it for once." He questioned, rolling his eyes at their mention. The Canadian checked his wrist for the time, unhappy with their slowed perception. He glanced up at the mouth of the cave and listened to the vicious howls of the blizzard outside, slightly thankful he had found the cave earlier.

"Something wrong?" Grace asked, tossing her empty MRE. The man delayed his response as he listened to the wind further, before turning around to face her.

"No, but neither of us are going to enjoy the evening." He stated, digging a hand through his duffel. Grace frowned at the words, but curiosity glinted off of her expression as he removed a silver flask from the bag.

"One of the pilots kept it in his pocket. Maybe for the job. Maybe for a something like this." Seb murmured, unscrewing the cap and taking a sniff. His expression soured slightly, but that didn't prevent him from taking a swig of the foul brew.

He handed the flask over, letting the pungent vapour roll off his tongue.

"Be careful. It's stronger than it smells."

Grace gazed at the container, wondering if it was the correct choice of action to pursue. Her eyes wandered up to Sébastien's, his face soft. "Trust me. Feeling warm can be just as helpful as being warm." He jested.

The Korean banished her thoughts of regret and distrust and took a hearty swig, feeling those thoughts surge back into her mind as the taste made its way down her throat. She threatened to vomit as she passed the flask back, unsure if she had drunk liquor or paint thinner.

Seb let a laugh loose as he chanced another sip, beginning to get around to the taste. The two shared the flask until it emptied, and after they continued to chat; about the big and little things as they tended to the fire.

Roughly an hour had passed since they had decided to try sleeping through the cold, but Sébastien found no respite as he listened to Grace's shivers. Her complexion had reddened and her accent slurred due to the liquor, but the woman found no answer to her problems as her body continued to try and warm itself against the fire.

Seb checked his watch once more, cursing his perception of time as well as the dropping temperature his thermometer recorded. He eyed the values, associating them with different effects on health and time frames for permanent damage.

He looked down at Grace's frame, understanding her symptoms but unsure if his solution would be well received. Another bout of shivers violently wracked her body, and Sébastien found his composure fading. She would not survive without his intervention, and he would intervene whether she liked it or not.

"Grace." He asked, peeling off his jacket and pants as he approached the woman. He laid the articles underneath himself as another barrier against the floor, and approached wearing only his briefs. "Grace." The man asked again, this time laying a hand on her shoulder. Another shiver ran it's course, this one longer than the last.

"Grace, wakeup." He muttered, pulling her covers off. Beneath he found her cradling herself into a ball, trying hr best to stay warm. Her eyes slowly opened, and gazed upwards at his frame. The crimson streak across her face widened, but nothing escaped her lips to betray her expression.

"Grace. You're suffering from mild Hypothermia." He explained, before averting his eyes slightly. "You might not enjoy this next bit, but you'll thank me later." He finalised, steeling his composure.

Sébastien reach down and sat the woman against his abdomen so she faced the fire. Her limbs moved slowly to resist, but the cold kept her weak. Grace felt her heartbeat rise as a pair of warm strong hands slid under the back of her garments and lifted them upwards.

The man stayed silent as he tossed the article on top of the duffels, knowing the thin fabrics would provide no use to them. Grace was about to protest as she felt the cold nip at her bare frame, trying to cover her breasts with her palms, but the freezing texture of her hands stopped that.

The warm hands returned again, but this time they went downwards, sliding against the soft flesh of her rump as they peeled the fabric from her cold skin. A host of slurred Korean erupted from her mouth as she tried to resist his actions, but Seb was busy consolidating their thermal blankets and pine bedding.

He shuffled the both of them closer to the fire and threw in another handful of fuel and boughs, hoping he would not have to forage for more during the night.

Grace tried to crawl away from the man, her mind in a state of confusion and excitement. Seb scolded her lightly as he pulled her back towards him and flipped her over. "Quit it. I'd rather have you embarrassed than dead." He gruffed, a look of concern on his face.

She gazed up at him, leaning on one of her elbows while the other arm bisected her breasts in a sensual manner. Buck said nothing as he pulled the covers over the both of them, forming a cocoon of insulation above and below their bodies.

The Korean woman found her blushing expression cradled into a masterfully chiselled body lined with thick patches of ticklish hair, all of which warmed her greatly. She slid her legs up, trying to keep her toes warm before a muscled leg slid between her own, slightly pressing against her womanhood.

Hot breaths flowed through her scalp as she felt her cheek press into the tufts of his chest, nuzzling the fuzzy patches in slight amusement as she was held closer and tighter. Seb tried to ignore the pair of hard nipples pressing against his abdomen as he rubbed his arms along the length of her back, warming her as best he could.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them, but the lack of complaint put the man at ease as he continued. Chilled fingers began to scrape against his back as Grace began to awaken from her stupor, prompting a smooth calve to wrap around his thigh and plant cold feet against his buttocks.

She looked up at the man, searching through his soft brown eyes amidst her own.

"Was this your plan all along?" She asked, a playful tone on her accent. Her right hand began to twirl tufts of hair between her fingers as she talked, interested in his shaggy stature.

Seb glanced down, trying to keep his face straight.

"I try to keep it professional." He stated, no falter in his accent. Grace spared a chuckle and let her hand slide up his frame, raking through his short beard. She pinched a handful and pulled his chin down as she saddled up slightly, leveling themselves.

"I think we are far past professional."

The Canadian offered no protest as he felt a pair of plump lips envelop his own, the thoughts of regret and his personal instinct screaming for him to discontinue. However, the tongue that slid between his teeth, looking for a partner to play with, banished those worries from his mind.

Grace let a surprised hum escape her throat as she felt a burly palm squeeze a handful of her rump, almost painfully. Seb repeated the act, but at this point she found pleasure in the aggression and hoped he would squeeze harder.

The two parted to take laboured breaths, a glint of spittle connecting their lips. Grace paused, letting an excited purr loose as she began to rub her womanhood against his rough thigh, lavishing in the texture she felt through her thin pair of black panties.

A gasp parted her lips as she felt a hand pin both of her arms above her head, exposing her voluptuous frame to the man. Grace watched as Seb let his eyes wander, tracing over her frame with only the fire to illuminate their actions.

He dove into her plump bosom, gently fondling one of her lobes before holding it in a vice so that her erect nipple would jut from his grip like the peak of a mountain. Pain and pleasure mixed inside of the woman's mind and found that her throat could only make so many noises of pleasure as he suckled on her, his tongue flicking and sliding over the pink tip.

Grace planted her feet into the blanket below and began to raise her hips further, grinding harder into his thigh and supplying a wash of sensation that drove her crazy. A yelp resounded through the cave as she felt a pair of teeth gently clamp onto her nipple, followed by the tickles of his beard as the lover nibbled.

Heat bellowed from her ragged breaths as she found her senses overwhelmed, and gathered the strength to escape his pin and win the dominance.

Seb showed slight surprise in the switch of positions, but calmed his protests as he felt a smooth hand trace down his rippling frame and nudged the banded lip of his briefs. Grace disappeared beneath the covers, parting his legs for room to lie as he felt her hands gently peel the garments down.

Curiousity got the best of the man as he folded part of the top blanket back, revealing his exposed manhood resting against his thigh with a curious expression inspecting it.

"Hmm. I was expecting… more of this-" she teased, grabbing a handful of hair from his abdomen and pinching it between her fingers. Seb let a smile part his lips as he reclined onto his elbows, finding interest in the view. "I keep it shorter than the rest. It helps with the briefs." He confessed with a smile. Grace let a chuckle loose before silencing herself, focusing her eyes back on the rod of flesh before her.

There was no hesitation as she encompassed its girth with a hand, feeling it pulse between her fingers. She stroked gently, watching as his skin gathered on the upstroke and stretched on the downstroke. Her nose gently trailed up the underside of his member, taking in longs breaths of the heavy musk he garnered.

A quiet grunt escaped the man as he watcher her tongue connect with his tip, circling around his head with a rotating motion as he hand continued to stroke. Grace relished in the flavor and enveloped the whole of his head, playfully prodding his opening with her tongue.

Seb let a satisfied groan resound through the cave, unsure if he had ever laid with a woman as interesting as the one between his legs.

The Korean brushed a lock of hair behind her ear before placing her other hand at the base of his shaft, letting the member stand erect within the triangle she formed with her fingers. With a slow but steady movement she began to lower her head onto the manhood, feeling as it slid over her tongue.

A hum of approval rung throughout the man's frame as she lowered even further, feeling as his head passed by her tonsils and began to slide down her throat. She paused, kissing her lips to the base of his shaft and wiggling her head slightly to ensure she had taken everything he had.

Sébastien could find no words to describe the pleasure he felt as she held the pose, salivating over his member. She began to rise, pulling her head back slowly while her hand resumed its grip on his member and began to stroke alongside the bob of her head.

Grace let a plethora of sloppy sounds escape her mouth as she worked, lavishing in the taste of his meat. Her free hand reached down and began to stroke the contours of his package, daring to cup one of them and play with it.

She continued to work, feeling the pulse of his member through her tongue as it swirled, searching for any dry spot she had left on his cock. Only when his hand raked through her tied head of hair did she understand his desire, feeling as his member was pushed back down into her throat.

The woman continued to bob, relishing in pleasure as she felt her face push further and further into his crotch. A final slam ended with a gout of hot and sticky fluid spurting down her esophagus, while a few stray gulp managed to find their way up her nose and erupt from her nostrils.

Laboured breaths sounded from the man as she slowly raised her head, slurping up as much of her spittle and ejaculate as she could before swallowing it all in one go. Grace sat up on her knees, rubbing her chilled breasts with her glazed palms as she caught her breath as well.

The two shared a short glance, before the woman found herself thrown against the floor once more. Sébastien spared no expense as he knelt between her legs, gazing at her moistened mound with fervor. A yelp escaped the woman's mouth as he dragged her towards him, leaning her frame against his abdomen as his hands clamped to her waist and his breath threatened to penetrate the fabric of her garment.

Grace felt a wash of excitement over come her as she locked her calves across his back, finding the exotic position all the more exhilarating. There was a pause in their tempo as Seb explored the smooth contours of her thighs, finding only the most exhilarating places to plant his kisses as his mouth neared closer to her mound.

There was a crinkling of sheets as the woman grabbed hold of the metal fabric, the anticipation curling her toes and threatening to bite through her lip as Seb worked.

The man dug in, burying his mug into her fabric while his gaze lingered over her ecstatic expressions, taking pride in his work. The aroma that permeated his senses nearly made him light-headed as he took it in, letting the tip of his nose fence with the nub that jutted out from her cloth.

Grace tried to buck her hips as bolts of pleasure struck her frame, but the burly set of arms locked her in place like a vice, ensuring she would not escape his treatment.

Sébastien let his tongue soak the fabric, tracing rough lines between her shielded lips before he loosened a hand and slid it up her abdomen. The Korean operative watched as his fingers traced lines along the bands of her scandalous undergarments, threatening to slip in while his tongue toiled away.

He teased her for a further moment, nudging her mound harder and harder with his nose, much to her pleasure as louder moans began to drone throughout the cave. Seb relented, easing off his pressure as he his digits crawled beneath the band.

The coarse tips of his fingers met with a smooth layer of trimmed stubble—enough to pinch—but short in stature. He found interest in the woman's expression as his hands slid further up, until he parted his fingers to accept her nub between them.

A gasp escaped her throat as he closed his digits, trapping the pearl and its folds in a gentle vice. He nodded his head back down, letting his tongue glide over the soaked rayon. He lapped up the bean between his digits, letting each flick of the tongue elicit another pant from the operator.

Grace felt her underwear peel from the moist mound between her leg, letting her thighs relax slightly as Sébastien rolled them to her knees. She grasped her breasts and began to massage them, feeling the cold creep back during the intermission.

A gentle kiss brought her eyes back to his as he ventured back in, sliding his tongue into where it would fit. A symphony of yips, squeals and squeaks erupted from the woman as she felt his facial hairs tickle her folds, alongside the rough thrusts of his tongue as it explored her cavity.

"Ah… Sebby!" She let loose, feeling as a tide of pleasure began to flow through her senses. The man felt a grin form on his lips as he continued, happy that he could satisfy a woman so. The two continued, growing more violent in action as she neared her limits.

Grace let a long howl loose as her juices surged forth, bucking her hips wildly in response. Sébastien reached his hands up to the bends of her knees and pulled them forward, pinning the operative's calves against the thermal blanket as he pressed his mouth harder against her mound.

Hysteria flowed through her mind as he began to nibble, pinching lightly with the skin of his teeth as her rocking grew. Grace felt her hand scramble wildly for a hold, anything that she could release her torment on as he continued. She felt the shag of his thighs and latched on, scratching at his skin as another torrent of juices flowed.

Lines of sparkling fluid began to trail down her abdomen as the grandeurs of the event faded, leaving the woman panting with heavy breaths and a face red beyond measure. Sébastien licked his lips and parted from her womanhood, releasing the grip he held on her legs.

A satisfied sigh escaped the Korean as he shuffled back slightly, resting the small of her back against the floor and allowing a leg to rest against his frame. The other he let lie against the blanket, before enveloping it between his thighs.

Grace found interest in the new position he pursued, but the ride earlier left her out of breath and incapable of speaking. Instead she watched as he saddled in closer, clutching her calf to his chest while draping the other blankets over his back and leaning towards her.

They laid face to face, silent save for the sound of their ragged breaths that permeated the smoothed stone of the hollow. She reached up, raking her fingers along the hair that lined his jaw as they gazed into each other with soft eyes. Once more she pinched a handful and pulled him close, sharing in a hearty kiss that warmed her more than anything she had felt that evening.

Sébastien parted the lock and gazed at her frame once more, before sliding his arms beneath her armpits and latching his hands to her shoulders, ensuring she would not slide off the blankets.

As with every position they had pursued that evening, Grace found a renewed vigor for the Canadian. The fringes of his beard tickled the smooth skin of her collarbone as he planted kisses along her neck, allowing her only the ability to wrap her arms around his back and dig in with her nails.

The first prod against her being elicited a playful squeak from the woman, feeling as a well lubricated head missed her entrance and slid upwards, grinding heavily against her pearl. Sébastien rolled his hips again, repeating the action as he grinded against her harder. A frustrated growl escaped the woman as he toyed with her, eliciting a chuckle from the man.

"Stop teasing me Sebby." She firmed, sliding a hand up to the back of his neck and locking her fingers in his hair. He offered another kiss against her neck, before tempting a bite at her succulent flesh and sliding himself in. A satisfied moan lingered by his ear as he slowly braved the depths, wondering to himself how far he could traverse before an impasse was reached.

Grace strained to take gasps of air as she felt her insides warm, filling and expanding to accommodate the new presence that threatened to pierce the contours of her womb. A drawn-out sigh escaped her as pressure mounted on her insides, relenting only when the man found his shaft satisfied with its plunge.

He saddled up a little further, turning his head to line her stretched calve with kisses as he bore his weight on her mound. Sloppy gushes emanated from the lack of space between them as the Canadian moved, picking up a pace that prompted laboured breaths from the both of them.

The howls of the raging blizzard at the lip of their cave found no acknowledgment as the two embraced, sharing their heat in one of the most exciting ways possible.

"Uhhh, Sebby." Grace strained, her eyes rolling back and her nails scraping against his cords of musculature as he pumped harder into her. "Yes?" He responded, delivering one more thrust that bumped her into the bed of pine before slowing. The woman broke from her stupor, feeling her thighs vibrating slightly as he eased up on the pressure. A face of slight confusion encompassed her expression before she felt her raised leg released.

"Wha—" was all that escaped her lips before she felt his hands shift her weight, swapping their positions. "Would not want our supply of heat to dwindle so quickly?" he remarked, stroking the curves of her waist before grasping onto the meat of her thighs.

Grace pressed her palms against the fur of his chest, feeling the bands of musculature beneath before adjusting her hips to accommodate the saddle position. Sébastien took delight in the tender flesh that padded against his hips, feeling as the woman raised herself slightly before falling back down upon his manhood.

Another moan of pleasure escaped her throat as she began to ride upon him, feeling the growth inside pulse with every bounce of her hips. Hearty slaps of flesh on flesh began to escape the blanket as the pair continued, echoing through the caves.

Sébastien admired the view before him, watching as Grace's pointed lobes swung in idle motions as her face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and awe. His eyes traced the patterns of her breasts before his desire kicked in, pushing him to stand up on his arms, closing the angle between them.

A growl erupted from her throat as she felt his beard plunge into her bosom, showering her perked melons with ticklish kisses. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, hanging onto them gently before wrapping around his strong neck and tightening his face to her skin.

He reclined once more, bringing her down with him as his hands shifted back to her rump and multiplied the force of her humping.

"Ahn!" She let loose, feeling the pressure within build up as he began to thrust into her own movements, sending thunderous, wet claps out the mouth of their abode. "Sebby…" She moaned, removing his head from her bosom so she could look into his eyes.

The two gazed at each other, their motions rocking.

"Sebby!" She repeated, resting her elbows against his shoulder while her hands crawled up the sides of his head, her fingers combing through his hair. He slammed one more pump atop his manhood before holding her hips there, taught against his own.

"I know." He whispered, grinding their sexes together as hard as he could. Grace let an orchestra of noises escape her open mouth as the wash of pleasure flooded her senses, the orgasm shaking her limbs with duress as the man beneath her gazed at her expression with wonder.

He continued, letting it ride out for as long as possible before he too reached his limit.

Amongst the jolts of electricity and toe-curling waves of delight Grace could feel, nothing matched the sensation of Sébastien's hot load filling her hole, infiltrating every nook and cranny of her womanhood before gushing from its entrance with fervor.

She gave one last cry of satisfaction before collapsing atop the man, worn and out of breath from their frolicking. He reached a hand up to stroke a band of moist hair from her forehead, petting her hair with passion as she rolled off to his side.

Heavy pants still escaped the woman as she rested her temple atop his bicep, feeling as his other hand readjusted the blankets over their frames before settling atop the curve of her hip, cupping a handful of her rump.

The two curled around each other slightly as the rigours of exhaustion began to set in, tiredness pulling at their consciousnesses. Grace hugged her face closer into his pectorals, but chanced a look upwards as the start of a word began to escape her lips.

"Shhh…" He interrupted, stroking lines down her back as the two tangled their legs amongst each other. "We can leave it for the morning." He ended, before the threat of exhaustion closed his eyes. Grace turned her view back to his chest and felt as her hand wrapped around his back, hugging him close. She too ventured into slumber not long after, adequately heated by her partner.

Thatcher gave a tired grunt as he ascended the hill, plant his heavy boots into the snow one step at a time. IQ followed behind, bundled in a parka and brandishing a bag full of extra jackets and medical supplies. The two approached the lip of the cave, finding an additional layer of snow barring their path in. The brit gave a hearty string of quiet curses as he booted the snow, creating a path for the woman behind him.

She gave a brief nod of thanks before the two entered, their eyes peeled for the worst.

"Fire." Monika pointed out, her finger stricken towards a barely glowing heap of charcoal. Thatcher turned his lenses towards the mounds of silvery fabric next to it, spotting a tuft of auburn exposed near the top.

"Oi. Seb." He spoke sternly, watching as the mound shuffled lightly. The Canadian's battered expression appeared up to his collarbone, slightly surprised. He glanced at the both of them, unmoving. "Mike. Monika. You two are early."

Thatcher gave the sentence and it's tone a slight raise of the brow from beneath his goggles, while his masked lips frowned. The German gave him a glance, curious.

"You look like shit." He spat, before scanning the darkness. "Where the hell's Grace? I thought there was two of you." The brit remarked, taking a second look around the cave. Monika stood behind him, her eyes inspecting the mound of thermal blankets.

A hand appeared from beneath the covers and clung to his shoulder, much too thin and feminine to belong to the Canadian. The German operative raised her brow as she watched a loose bun of hair emerge, followed by the drowsy expression offered by the Korean.

"Time to go already?" She asked, slightly slurred. A number of blinks cleared through the woman's face before she looked up, spotting the two operatives standing before them. The covers began to slide down the length of her back, exposing the nudity the two shared as she pressed her breasts to Seb's frame.

"Huh. Got her with the old hypothermia trick, did you?" Thatcher snorted, saving his laugh for later. Monika shook her head in disbelief, before dropping the bag of jackets at the foot of their bed and leaving the cave.

"Well. Hop to it lovebirds, we've still got a job to do." The senile operator ordered, nodding to himself as he turned and followed his protégé out the cave.

The two on the floor watched as they left, then shared a glance with each other. Sébastien was about to say something fitting before he felt a hand cup his chin and a kiss peck his lips. Grace offered a smile for her service and threw the covers off, pursuing her garments.

He sat there, slightly confused before reaching for his own clothing and outfitting himself.

The two emerged minutes later, brandishing their bags of intelligence and heavier jackets. Monika sat silently atop a jut of stone, while Thatcher nursed a cigarette between his lips, letting a puff of sweet smoke loose from his nostrils.

"You twits done? Let's move." He said, nodding towards a nearby clearing with a waiting Mil Mi-17, its blades spinning in preparation. Monika stepped off, leading the way down the freshly powdered hill as they followed.

Sébastien turned his head, gazing at the lip of the cave. Lasting thoughts began to stream through his mind, about the crash and their luck, but a determined hand latched onto his and pulled him down the hill, garnished with a quiet giggle.

It would not be the highlight of his career, but the Canadian knew it was a night he would remember for the rest of his days. He stepped forth, following the woman he had gotten to know well, and began to dream of where his future lay with her.


End file.
